To Feel Again
by Zayaz
Summary: on hiatus - M, nc/violence, ByakuyaxOC : implied ByakuyaxHisana - more characters in later chapters. When you can't feel pleasure or joy or happiness, what's left when you have a natural desire?
1. Never This Bad

First public fanfic. Please note I'm a huge Byakuya fan – this is not meant to put him in a horrible light, just to set the stage for his current mindset. If a person doesn't allow himself to feel pleasure or happiness, what's left when you have a natural urge? This takes place after the Soul Society arc. Several other Bleach characters will be making an appearance with Renji being a primary char in this story.

**Never This Bad**

Kuchiki Byakuya, pinnacle of nobility and head of his Clan, sat in a run down teahouse in a village on one of his Rukongai landholdings. Wearing his impeccable Captain's uniform, _ginpaku kazahana no uzuginu_ and kenseikan he looked out of place among the scruffy farmers and shopkeepers who were staring at their liege lord. The owner of the teahouse had been shocked at his arrival and had immediately rounded up every person who was working and made sure they were ready to be at the beck and call of the noble who had arrived at dusk.

"Kuchiki-dono, it is an honour." Bowing from the waist he spoke directly to the tatami mats beneath his feet. Byakuya barely gave him a glance and went directly to an empty table, setting Senbonzakura to his side carefully and sitting down. Making frantic motions the owner had his best tea served in record time. Byakuya was sipping it and watching the last of the sunset when he felt the owner hovering nearby.

Byakuya looked in annoyance at the man fidgeting behind him

"Yes?"

"Kuchiki-dono, I was wondering if you wanted any other refreshment?" the man all but whispered, sweat rolling off his face.

"Show me what is available." Byakuya never looked away from the falling darkness. He did not go to the teahouses to drink their abysmal tea. In fact he hadn't been to one for at least two decades, suppressing those urges as long as he could. When Hisana died he swore that he would never touch another person with love again, and he knew he had kept that promise. Yet those urges remained. First it was every few months, then every year, then two or three years passed. Now it had been twenty years since his last visit.

The owner quickly gathered up the women who were in his employ specifically for entertainment he lined them up in front of the shoji that Byakuya was facing. Sighing, the Kuchiki leader eyed the women in front of him. All homely and smiling, that was unacceptable; the smiles bothered him. On some he read their attraction to him, others he saw the lust for his wealth or a desire to be a concubine or something more. Frowning, he drank the last of his tea and was about to leave when one of the servants scurried out to clear another table, silently gathering the teacups. Feeling his eyes on her she glanced quickly at him, meeting his gaze for a half second and then dropped her eyes and almost ran out of the room.

"Her." He gestured the way that the woman ran.

A shocked look on his face the owner stammered, "Kuchiki-dono, that is just a nuhi, she works in the kitchen, she has no…" Snapping his mouth shut at the icy glare he nodded and scurried into the kitchen, dismissing the rest of the women who silently disappeared. In a few minutes he was back out again, bowing low to hide his discomfort.

"My Lord, I… I can show you to where she waits."

Byakuya stood up, Senbonzakura sliding smoothly into his sash. Following the owner who kept bowing at every turn in the hallway he finally slid open a shoji and Byakuya strode in looking briefly at the woman kneeling, her forehead touching the mats in-between her hands as she prostrated herself before him.

Making sure that his Lord wouldn't want anything further of him, the owner bowed again, quietly slid the door closed, ordered his entire establishment closed and everyone to get as far away from the room as possible.

Byakuya took off his Captain's haori and carefully laid it on a small table near the door, placing Senbonzakura on top of it. Dragging a stool to where the woman still was in a kow tow he sat in front of her.

"Sit up."

She returned to a seiza and kept her head bowed. Extending a finger he placed it under her chin and raised her head. Older, still had some beauty but her eyes were full of tears and they obstinately refused to look at him.

"Look at me."

Slowly large brown eyes met cold gray. He felt her shudder and saw her fear dripping off her face. Feeling the warmth start in his stomach Byakuya backhanded her across the face, hearing her cry and seeing the blood spray across the shoji as her head whipped around. Whimpering, she pressed her forehead against his tabi. Annoyed, he pushed her up with a foot and hit her with his other hand hard enough to throw her down onto the matting. This time she just laid there, quietly sobbing. He stood up and walked over to her, seeing her tremble as he approached. Picking her up by the back of her kimono he stood her on her feet. Watching the blood drip from her face onto the floor he felt the flush grow stronger.

"Cease that sniffling," he ordered and heard her audibly gulp as she tried to stop her crying.

"Lay on the bed on your back and be still." He turned his back to her and walked over to where Senbonzakura lay, hearing her scuffle across the mats and the soft sounds of her body on the futon.

Drawing a distressed Senbonzakura from the saya he repeated in his mind as he always did, "I am not betraying Hisana."

As he walked with the unsheathed sword towards the woman on the bed her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened to scream. _Enough of this_. Moving quickly he had put his hand over her mouth and slit her thin obi with the sword and deftly pulled it out from under her.

"I said to be still and silent." Byakuya stuffed part of the obi in her mouth and let the remainder fall onto the futon. He put Senbonzakura on the bed beside the woman who followed his every move with tearful eyes, her jaw working on the gag.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slowly parted her kimono, laying out each side carefully, leaving her arms in the sleeves. Golden skin, soft black pubic hair and firm breasts with tiny nipples met his eyes. Noting the faint outline of some scars, he traced each white line with his finger and watched her body shudder at each contact, rippling to get away from him.

Placing his hand on her pubic mound he heard her groan and felt her try to close her legs. Two sharp slaps on each thigh stopped her and she reluctantly relaxed her legs again. He felt her, dry, no arousal. The flush moved up to his fingers and into his toes. Quickly untying the bare minimum of his hakama to push it slightly off his hips he raised himself in-between her legs, spreading them further apart with his hands and laying her knees flat against the bed. Byakuya watched her face intently, her eyes squeezing shut and her breathing was laboured through the gag. One hand opened her and his other guided himself to her entrance, slowly pushing in. Her breathing became muffled screams through her obi. He felt the pain himself, almost a tearing against his sensitive flesh as he doggedly rammed inside of her. This was good, no pleasure, just release. Starting to move in and out he looked at her small hands clutching at the sheets in agony; he gripped them with his own and held them on either side of her head, pushing them down for leverage. Slowly it became easier for him to move inside her channel and he shifted slightly, giving hard, fast thrusts, something that would bring him to conclusion as fast as possible.

He felt it building slowly and bent his head down to her neck, biting her until he tasted blood and felt her thrash against him, making his body shudder as she tensed around him. Deciding to repeat it on the other side of her neck he was rewarded with the same response. Byakuya let go of her hands and placed one hand over her mouth and nose, pinching her nostrils shut so the only way she could get air was through the gag. Immediately she panicked, trying to get air through the cloth and failing. Small hands beat on his chest and back. Her legs flailed and body shook. He came, letting go of her face, closing his eyes and shuddering into her. No pleasure, just release.

As he opened his eyes he saw what he always saw, a brief flicker of Hisana's face before it melted into the other woman. Guilt, as usual, raged through him as effectively as a zanpaktou through his chest.

"No, you are not Hisana," he growled and threw her off the bed where she crumpled on the tatami, a tangle of kimono and limbs.

_And in the back of his mind, the memories of Hisana in ecstasy over his gentle lips and tongue on her._

"No." He looked at the woman in anger. How could this thing ever bring up memories of Hisana?

_Her smile as she ran gentle fingers over his chest._

"No," he repeated, closing his eyes.

_The sweetness of every kiss._

"No!" He opened his eyes, red with rage, and saw the woman staring up at him in fear. He would wipe that expression off her face, every expression, he would make sure that she would never bring up memories of Hisana again, he would destroy her for making him remember. She was there just for his release; this was nothing like with Hisana, why was he remembering?

_Soft lips fluttering against him. "Byakuya-sama, I love you."_

And he went silent with an all-encompassing anger.

Several hours later he found himself sitting on the bed, his aching head in his hands, staring at the destruction around him.

"I did this," he thought.

He ran his eyes over the room. The furniture had been demolished by Senbonzakura, shoji were torn on all sides of the room, the futon had been sliced open, some of the tatami were torn and there was blood spattered everywhere. His eyes widened slightly, remembering the woman. She lay on the other side of the bed in an ever-spreading puddle of red that soaked through her torn kimono. Sighing he turned her over and saw she was still breathing shallowly. Putting on his haori and Senbonzakura he walked out and the manager came to him, his deep bow unable to hide the fear radiating off of him.

"Kuchiki-dono, I…" he stammered and Byakuya pushed into his hands a purse filled with enough money to almost buy another teahouse.

"Get her a healer."

Kuchiki Byakuya walked slowly out of the building, feeling the oppressive silence around him, his whole body wanting to run away but his mind refusing to lose his regal bearing among these people.

When he reached the outside night air he heard a commotion in the teahouse and the soft patter of feet running to the manager's yell. The guilt welled up again. It had never been this bad before, never gone this far. He felt Senbonzakura stir in his mind.

_You should be ashamed._

"I know."

_I understood you not picking girls that looked like Hisana. I understood you trying to pick girls who weren't attracted to you, as few as those were. I almost understand why you wanted them to feel every emotion not associated with Hisana. But, Byakuya, I do not understand this._

"I know."

_What is your explanation?_

"There is none."

_That is unacceptable._

He felt her withdraw.

To Be Continued.


	2. Remorse

_Continuation. No sex here although the aftermath of violence is noted. If you're looking for some more nc/bdsm'ish stuff put up a new story with Byakuya called 20 Lashes you can find under my handle. _

...

**Remorse**

...

He had arrived back to Seireitei in record time and immediately went to the Division barracks to make sure that Abarai Renji had not burned down the buildings with his kidou, ineptitude or general lacksadaisal nature. Finding everything in good order and his fukutaichou's paperwork complete and ready to be sent out the next morning he sighed and went back to his estate with a clear conscience.

As soon as he arrived deferential servants appeared, ready to help him with anything that was required by the lord of the house. Waving them away he realized that in the pit of his stomach there was another feeling. Regret. Damn Senbonzakura, he thought. Mentally rolling his eyes he took a detour to his office and sat down with a pen and a piece of parchment thinking of the proper words to say in this improper situation.

_I would like to apologize._  
No, Kuchiki's do not apologize.

_I would appreciate it if you could send my condolences._  
She wasn't dead, why would he send condolences.

_I regret that the incident occurred._  
Nobles do not say that their actions were unwarranted.

In the end he dug up one of the still-new gifts that came from his family, a woman's kimono in beautiful blue silk with gold threading (a not so subtle hint on where his priorities should lie from relatives) and sent it to the owner of the teahouse to replace the one that he ruined with a note asking about the "health of the servant." After calling for the courier he felt a bit better and decided to forgo his evening walk and instead get some rest so that he could start on the Division paperwork early in the morning.

A class was shortly going to graduate the Academy and all the Captains were putting in their picks that would be matched by the staff of the Commander General with the lists that the soon-to-be Shinigami submitted the week before. Renji had already interviewed many of them and Byakuya a few. The 6th was usually a full Division and they had the luxury of being picky, even so the amount of paperwork was daunting.

"The girl that's good with kidou, Shio, you want me to fill one out on her?" Renji asked, staring sideways at his Taichou who was filling out more forms to request supplies.

"Mn, you mentioned that you could bring her swordplay up?" His pen scratched.

"Yup, shouldn't take too long, she seems eager." Renji put the stack of paper to one side and picked up another.

"What about Jiho, uh, that's the noble kid who seems to be sorta good in uh…" Renji trailed off, not sure how to tell his Taichou that the noble kid wasn't exactly the cream of the crop.

"No, he'd be dead weight to the Division," Byakuya replied without looking up, grabbing another stack of reports and sliding them in front of him.

"Uh, okay, cool." Renji threw that stack into a growing pile of trash next to his desk. Grabbing another he read through it and was about to start extolling the merits of a young man who seemed to be good in everything when a messenger arrived, knocking at the shoji. Byakuya didn't look up, his brush flying over paper.

"C'mon in," Renji called. The messenger came in and knelt in front of the Captain.

"Sir, a message for you."

Byakuya looked at him in annoyance and pointed to an uncluttered part of his desk with the back of his brush. Putting the note on the table the messenger paused and Byakuya looked up with a frown.

"Why are you still here?"

"Sir, I'm unsure where to put the package," the messenger said deferentially.

"Package? Leave it on the floor."

Bowing out the messenger fled and Byakuya finished the paperwork he was working on before looking down to see what it was that was brought. He recognized the package immediately; it was the kimono that he had sent out earlier. Lips pursed he wondered if the owner really was crass enough to send back a gift, an unforgivable breach of protocol. Picking up the letter he unfolded it.

_Kuchiki-dono_

_I would like to extend my gratitude again for your patronage of my humble establishment. I sincerely hope that you will decide to visit us again. Thank you for your concern about the kimono, but as the woman may not recover I cannot accept such a generous gift when you already have been so giving._

Byakuya stared at the note, his face impassive but his mind racing. Again Senbonzakura stirred.

_And now what will you do?_

"I've done what I could."

_Have you?_

"Haven't I?"

_Throwing money at the problem in hopes that it salves your conscience, I think that you can do more than that._

"So, what is it that you want me to do?"

_What do you feel like you need to do?_

A few hours later Byakuya told his confused fukutaichou that they had been doing this "academy nonsense" too long and that he was taking a few hours off and that Renji could do as he pleased for the rest of the day. Heading quickly to the teahouse Byakuya arrived in a swirl of dust after using shunpo to get there. The owner immediately came out with a smile on his face.

"Kuchiki-dono, I never expected a visit again so soon!" Bowing he glanced up at the nobleman.

"I am not here for pleasure. I received the returned kimono and your note. Where is the woman?" The owner's face went still in surprise, but gulping and not wanting to offend his lord, he nodded and led him inside. Through a labyrinth of hallways they eventually reached the servants quarters and the man opened one door. It was a tiny room, enough for a bed and a chair and a lamp, nothing more. His woman from yesterday lay on the pallet on her back, eyes closed, shallow breathing. Byakuya could see dirty bandages under her kimono.

"We got her a healer, Kuchiki-dono, but he said that to treat it would be more than what she was worth. I apologize for offending you by returning the kimono."

Byakuya waved the man away and the owner disappeared from the door with a quick bow and hurried instructions down the hall to prepare tea for Kuchiki-dono in case he would want any. Pulling up a chair Byakuya stared at the woman for a second before placing the back of his hand on her forehead. Unsurprisingly it was hot with fever. Feeling the unexpected touch the nuhi opened her eyes, unfocused and dull with pain. She looked around for a few seconds and then they landed on the Kuchiki lord. Making a frantic sound her hands scrambled at the blanket as she tried to get away from him, but her body was far too damaged and within a few seconds some wounds reopened and started to bleed again through the bandages.

"Stop moving, I'm not here to hurt you," Byakuya ordered. The woman stilled on the bed and laid there, eyes wide and trembling. Sighing he looked around for the manager, clearing his throat to summon the man he knew was hovering nearby.

"Kuchiki-dono?" the man asked, appearing at the door again.

"I'm buying her. Make up the papers immediately." The man squeaked but upon seeing the noble's tight face nodded and called out for the document and brushes. A few quick turns of the brush and a blot and she was deeded to the Kuchiki house. Byakuya put the folded paper inside his haori and handed the man another heavy purse before wrapping the woman up in the sheet and shunpo'ing back to Seireitei with her. To the owner it looked as if his lord had disappeared, with only a gust of wind and the lack of one of his slaves to say he had ever been there.

Arriving at 4th Division he caused a small commotion when he handed over the woman who obviously was not a Shinigami. Looking for Captain Unohana he sensed her reiatsu in her office and headed there where she cordially greeted him at the door.

"Kuchiki-taichou, it is good to see you. What brings you here, none of your Division are currently in my care."

"I brought in a Rukongai woman who was… injured and needs treatment. I know that you are busy but I would be more than happy to recompense you and your squad for your time in assisting me with this matter." Captain Unohana noted the tension in Byakuya's face and gave a nod.

"You know that we treat non-Shinigami here, Kuchiki-taichou. Nothing special is needed and we are far from crowded. Shall we see where they put her?"

Byakuya nodded and Captain Unohana talked quietly to one of her officers before smiling again and leading the way down the large hospital.

When they arrived at the room at the end of the hall there were two people from 4th Division attending her. As soon as Captain Unohana walked in they bowed, gave a quiet report and left.

"Ah, Kuchiki-taichou. It appears that your friend had run into the edge of a sword several times. Also appears that she was severely beaten and has some trauma due to sexual violence. Some of the cuts look to be serious due to the infection and the internal injuries are more worrying. However, there is nothing here that we cannot fix. It may take a couple of days, but she should recover."

Relief poured through him and with it a measure of surprise, guilt and anger. Why was he so relieved she was going to survive? What was the purpose of that and looking even further beyond, what would he do with her once she survived? The pangs of guilt that she was even here he knew showed on his face momentarily. He felt a quick surge of anger for feeling guilty before he closed his eyes and pushed all the emotions away. Whirling around he strode out of the room.

"She is not my friend."

TBC


End file.
